


Pretty Baby, Tattoos

by nerdy_farm_girl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Florist Derek, derek is still a grouch, i honestly don't know how to tag, lot's of swearing, mature content, tattoo artist lydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3297308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdy_farm_girl/pseuds/nerdy_farm_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She smirked at Stiles and pulled her sketch pad closer, letting her pencil move without really thinking about it. Stiles ran his hand down her arm before meandering deeper into the parlor, but Lydia barely noticed. She was sketching without even trying, her fingers moving without thought. She didn’t even know what she was drawing until she looked down from helping a customer, horrified to see the portrait of someone with sharp cheekbones and a stubbled jaw and very angry eyebrows on her pad. Oh hell no. She hastily flipped the page as Stiles appeared from the back, sitting down at one of the tables with a customer to talk about what they wanted.<br/>Staring at her friend, she tried to draw him instead, starting with the japanese fox tattoo that wrapped around his forearm. But she couldn’t do it. She’d even designed the damn tattoo for him in the first place, but it wasn’t working. His forearms were too thick, his biceps having too much curvature, and she was skipping the collection of tatts covering his arms all together. And ending up with Derek Hale once again. Fuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Baby, Tattoos

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this ](http://werewolvesandarrows.tumblr.com/post/108665290417/holysmoaksoliver-almostvivian-letyoursoul) post on tumblr.
> 
> I don't know how to tag, so if you think something should be added, let me know
> 
> My apologies for the terribly written sex at the end... just ughhh 
> 
> And I don't know shit about tattoos and tattooing... I did a little research, but if there's stuff that's inaccurate, I'm sorry!
> 
> All my mistakes are my own.

Lydia slouched in a red leather chair, sketch pad balanced on one knee and pencil clenched between her teeth. It was early afternoon, and the parlor was empty, with the exception of a college aged girl getting her nose pierced by Allison. Allison, who could pierce every part of your body but only had single holes in her ears herself. Lydia smirked at the thought, trying to pull her attention back to the design she was supposed to be drawing. Stiles wanted her to draw something that represented the four of them (himself, Lydia, Allison and Scott) and their ever-strengthening friendship. The four had gotten really close in high school, and now Lydia owned the Trust The InstINK Tattoo & Piercing Parlor, where both Allison and Stiles were employed. It had started out as a side gig, she’d learned to ink in college while she was getting her degree in Mathematics. Somewhere along the line she decided to get her MBA and open a business instead of continuing on with her doctorate. This lifestyle was much more rewarding than being stuck in an office all day surrounded by formulas. And, she got to hang out with two out of three of her besties on a regular basis… and on the good days all three of them would get paid.

Scott, never one to give up on his dreams, was currently doing a stint as a Vet Tech while continuing his studies in Veterinary Science. It took literally ages to become a vet, and Lydia absolutely did not envy him. They’d graduated high school six years ago, and the poor guy had like a decade more left. Speak of the devil… She narrowed her eyes, watching as Scott stopped to talk to a petite girl with long dark hair and the cutest little smile Lydia had ever seen. If only Stiles were here so they could place bets on how long it would take Scott to fall head over heels for this one. She decided that they looked good together, standing there in front of the myriad of roses and carnations displayed in front of the florist shop across the street, The Moon Flower. She had met the sisters that owned it a couple of times, Laura and Cora Hale. They seemed nice enough, a little standoffish and kept to themselves, but Lydia didn’t mind. In fact, she preferred it over the easy banter and endless pranks going on between Stiles and the Moon Flower’s three employees, Erica, Boyd and Isaac. Not to mention _whatever_ on again, off again crap was happening with Stiles and Malia, the Hale sister’s cousin. It was both distracting and annoying, but Lydia let it slide due to the amount of business the four _distractions_ brought their way.

Today however…

Lydia watched with horror as Stiles came racing down the nearly empty sidewalk, football tucked under one arm as he ducked and dived around pedestrians. That alone was enough to be alarming, but Boyd (quiet, stoic, smart Boyd, who also happened to be both large and athletic) and Isaac (smart assy, judgey... also tall and athletic) were right on Stiles’ (tall, gangly and kind of athletic until he panicked) tail… heading straight for Scott. And the cute girl. And the display of roses and carnations. She cringed as all five of them tumbled into the flowers, water splashing everywhere and petals floating gently through the air. The horror only continued as the door of the Moon Flower flew open, revealing a tall, dark, drop dead gorgeous, enraged man whom Lydia had never seen before. His hands clenched in fists as he stormed towards the pile of idiots and flowers, picking Boyd and Isaac up by their arms and forcing them towards the store with a scowl. Then he grabbed for Stiles and Scott, his angry eyebrows almost touching as he dragged them towards Trust The InstINK. _Oh shit._

Lydia scrambled out of the chair, almost twisting her ankle in her haste to get behind the counter before Angry Eyebrows could drag Dumb and Dumber inside. It wasn’t that she was afraid, or liked to back down from a fight… She just didn’t want to be caught idly watching (and finding some entertainment) in the scene outside. Her butt had just touched the stool behind the front desk when the door flew open, the bell above it jingling obnoxiously. Lydia pressed her lips together tightly, trying not to laugh at Stiles and Scott’s soaked clothes and frightened faces.

“Welcome to Trust The InstINK, can I help you?” she asked in a sugary sweet voice, even going as far as to bat her eyelashes at Angry Eyebrows.

“I believe these two belong to you,” he growled, shoving the guys at her. Lydia bit her lip, holding in the urge to say _My, what big teeth you have_ like an ass hole.

“What is your problem Hale?” Stiles hissed, straightening out the sleeve of his t-shirt while glaring at Angry Eyebrows. Wait. Hale?

“Like Laura and Cora Hale?” Lydia found herself asking, raising a don’t-mess-with-me-eyebrow at Angry Eyebrows when he looked at her like she was stupid. Which she absolutely was not. They had a little stare down for a minute, during which Scott sulked off to find Allison and Stiles stood proudly beside Lydia with his hands on his hips. Eventually, Angry Eyebrows gave in, grunting in what Lydia assumed was ascent before turning and walking out of the shop without a word. No sooner had the door banged shut behind him, and Stiles was already leaning on the counter with an easy grin.

“Dude is hot like burning,” he said with a whistle, brown eyes sparkling almost as much as the diamond and gold barbell in eyebrow. “A little bit scary, but damn.” Lydia just gave him her, I’m-Not-Impressed look, because in reality, she wasn’t. It wasn’t like she ever had trouble getting attractive men. They flocked to her. And the angriness around this one was just off putting. “Cora told me last week that she and Laura opened another shop in the next town over, so Derek has taken over managing the Moon Flower.” Stiles answered the question she hadn't asked.

“Who’s Derek?”

“That. Was Derek.”

“Ah, Angry Eyebrows is so much better.” She smirked at Stiles and pulled her sketch pad closer, letting her pencil move without really thinking about it. Stiles ran his hand down her arm before meandering deeper into the parlor, but Lydia barely noticed. She was sketching without even trying, her fingers moving without thought. She didn’t even know what she was drawing until she looked down from helping a customer, horrified to see the portrait of someone with sharp cheekbones and a stubbled jaw and very angry eyebrows on her pad. _Oh hell no_. She hastily flipped the page as Stiles appeared from the back, sitting down at one of the tables with a customer to talk about what they wanted.

Staring at her friend, she tried to draw him instead, starting with the japanese fox tattoo that wrapped around his forearm. But she couldn’t do it. She’d even designed the damn tattoo for him in the first place, but it wasn’t working. His forearms were too thick, his biceps having too much curvature, and she was skipping the collection of tatts covering his arms all together. And ending up with Derek Hale once again. _Fuck._

Slapping the sketchbook closed, Lydia stomped towards her office in the back, stuffing the stupid book angrily into her purse. It had gotten late somehow, the setting summer sun casting an eerie red glow through the windows. Lydia had spent a lot of time designing her parlor. Instead of dark walls and spiders and shit, she’d gone with a ‘50’s diner vibe, complete with black and white tiled floors and little red booths. They played golden oldies on the radio, and Lydia liked to alternate her personal style back and forth between the two versions of Sandra Dee, depending on her mood. Today was definitely made for black leather.

"Hey Danny, I'm heading out." She brushed her fingers through her other tattooist’s hair, another friend from high school. "Lock up after your appointment tonight." Danny didn't even look up from his sketchbook as he nodded, the pages filled with font upon font.

Predictably, Danny was Trust The InstINK's lettering and words guy. He was meticulous and creative and damn near perfect enough to piss Lydia off half the time. Stiles was her color guy. Watercolor tattoos were his thing, and they never ceased to amaze Lydia. The ironic thing was, that all Stiles' own work was in black and white, and done by Lydia herself. She was pretty much a free agent, though she loved doing flowers and animals.

She pushed out the front of the shop, holding back a smirk at the sight of Isaac and Boyd still cleaning up the mess in front of the Moon Flower.

"You look good bitch," the sound of Erica Reyes' signature snarl had Lydia glancing up and returning her smirk. She crossed the street, her red platform pumps clicking loudly on the pavement.

"I might have to take your fashion advice more often," she allowed, glancing at her own reflection in the Moon Flower's front window. She had on a tight leather mini skirt and a lacy white sleeveless blouse, her black leather jacket folded over her arm. A red bandana was wrapped around her head, holding her strawberry blonde mane from her face. It was a good look. There was a huffing noise from somewhere inside the florist shop, and Erica basically was biting her hand to stop from laughing.

"Hey Martin!" Isaac drew her attention towards where he was crouched on the sidewalk, arms full of broken pink roses.

"Yes?" She quirked an eyebrow, attempting to make Isaac uncomfortable. Unfortunately, that particular tactic had lost its effectiveness a couple of years ago.

"I wanna talk to you about a new piece," he stood and jerked his head towards the door, blonde curls bobbing slightly. Lydia begrudgingly followed him inside, eyes immediately drawn to the half finished arrangement on the counter. There were peach colored roses and succulents sticking into the green floral foam, and a few scraps of lace lay abandoned beside it.

"Is Erica making that?" She asked Isaac as he dumped his armload into the trash, bending over to sniff the roses. He made a face at her, but she couldn’t tell if it was supposed to mean ‘Obviously it was Erica’ or ‘Obviously it _wasn’t_ Erica you idiot’, so she shrugged it off.

“So I was thinking,” Isaac’s fingers wrapped around her wrist as he tugged her deeper into the shop. “That I’d like to get nasturtiums around my arm.” His finger brushed over the rounded leaves of the plant in front of him, drawing Lydia’s eye. It would certainly be different, the leaves and the flowers themselves very similar in shape.

“What’s the meaning?” She asked quietly, pulling on his hand so that she could see his arm and the flowers at the same time. Isaac only had one other tattoo, it was simply a thick chain around his bicep, bursting into pieces over the curve of the muscle. Lydia had designed it for him last year, and although he didn’t explain what it meant, it was clear there was personal trauma behind it.

“My brother…” Isaac slumped slightly, his shoulders hunching. “My brother was in the army, he was killed in a suicide bombing in Baghdad eight years ago.” Lydia squeezed his arm gently, communicating her sorrow without words. “Anyways, when we were kids, we’d spend a lot of time at my grandmother’s, and she had blue nasturtiums planted in all her window boxes.” He shrugged. “And nasturtiums symbolize patriotism, so I thought it was fitting.”

Lydia pulled her sketchpad out of her purse, flipping quickly to a clean page. It didn’t take long for her to sketch out a rough version. It would be hard, the vines were delicate and the leaves could end up looking a lot like lily pads if she wasn’t careful.

“You know what I think?” she mused, attempting to shade the petals of a flower. “Maybe I do the outline, and the leaves and stuff in black and gray… and then Stiles can work his magic and make the flowers really pop with blue?”

“Yeah! That’d be sick!” Isaac cracked a smile (a real one, not his usual smart ass smirk) as he leaned against the table Lydia was working on.

“How big do you want it?” She didn’t wait for an answer, instead yanking on his arm and measuring with her hands, drawing out invisible shapes with her finger nails. “Yup. This is gonna be perfect.” She dropped his arm and shoved her pad back into her purse. “I’ll work on it tonight. Come by any time and we can look at it with Stiles.” Turning on her heel, she strode towards the door, only pausing to frown at the arrangement she’d admired before, realizing that the lace had been artfully stuck in around the roses. How had she not realized that someone else was in the shop? Glancing around, she bent over it again, her fingers caressing the hens and chicks. She wanted to take a picture of it in the worst way. She looked up at the sound of Erica’s high heeled boots on concrete.

“Did you make this?” she asked. “It’s beautiful.” Erica just smirked and shook her head, looking more delighted than was necessary considering it wasn't even her work. “Oh. Well tell Boyd it’s gorgeous. See ya later…” She strode towards the door, glancing at the blonde over her shoulder. “Bitch.” The sound of Erica’s cackling was still ringing in her ears by the time she made it home.

* * *

 

The next morning, Lydia was walking from her office to go talk to Allison when she noticed the flower arrangement sitting on the front desk. It was the one from the night before, now complete with baby’s breath and some greenery. It was lovely.

“Did Isaac bring this over for you?” She scooped it in her arms and carried it over to Allison, setting it on the table between them. The brunette frowned and shook her head, looking at Lydia like she was crazy. Apparently, Allison hadn’t noticed the unbearable sexual tension between the two of them. Rookie.

“It’s pretty though.” Her friend smiled, dimples showing in her cheeks before returning to the ANATOMETAL catalogue she was browsing.

They were both still sitting there when Stiles wandered in, looking like he’d been through hell and back. He had bags under his eyes, his skin was too pale, and his bright blue dyed hair was sticking up in all different directions. Lydia watched as he beelined for the coffee machine, making himself a cup before dropping unceremoniously into the booth beside her.

“Rough night?” Allison asked, her lips quirking into the tiniest of smiles. Stiles just groaned and buried his face in his arms.

“Never. Drinking. Again.” He mumbled, lifting his head just enough to sip at the black coffee in front of him.

“Get over it. You said the same thing last week.” Lydia snapped, but she patted his hair down anyways. “We have a project when you’re feeling up to it.” Stiles perked up almost immediately, making grabby hands at the notebook Lydia was holding. Smirking, she pushed it towards him, along with his set of color pencils that she’d borrowed earlier. “It’s nasturtiums for Isaac. He wants blue…” That was all it took for Stiles to start shading, his attention completely focused. Art was good for him, it helped expel some of the nervous energy always built up inside of him. He was fascinating to watch.

But Lydia had other things to do (like answering phone calls and checking the performance of her stock portfolio), so she left him to it and returned to her office.

 

“MARTIN!”

Lydia frowned at the open door of her office. It wasn’t often that her last name was being shouted angrily in her own shop… or ever, really. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to respond, and honestly, she didn’t particularly want to at this point. Fortunately (or unfortunately maybe), she didn’t have to, since the doorway was currently being filled by the ever-scowling and always glaring Angry Eyebrows.

“You have good arms for some tattoos.” The words popped out before she could stop them, but Lydia had enough pride to not even act embarrassed. It was kind of her job anyways. And it was true. His biceps (and she predicted shoulders) would look _awesome_ covered in tribal designs or something. Angry Eyebrows seemed to falter for a moment, his eyebrows raising and becoming slightly less scary before he turned the scowl back up and stomped further into her office.

“Our employees are playing football in your parking lot.” He announced as if they were kicking babies in the street or something. With a deep sigh, Lydia pushed herself out of her chair and walked over to her office window, trying not to smirk as she watched Scott and Stiles jump on Boyd’s back.

“What do you want me to do about it?” she asked, spinning around to catch the tail end of what might have been Angry Eyebrows checking her out. As he should be. Because per usual, her outfit was on point (pink floral tulip skirt, matching sleeveless blouse, and her favorite pair of wedges). Of course, once he caught her eye, his lips turned down so much he looked like Grumpy Cat.

“Well I don’t know about you, but I’m not paying my employees to screw around.” He growled, eyes following her every move as she returned to her desk.

“Stiles gets paid commision based on the pieces he does,” she shrugged. “And Scott doesn't work for me.” Angry Eyebrows glowered at her, the power of his glare dimming slightly when Lydia unconsciously toyed with the lace in her flower arrangement. “By the way, you should be paying whichever of your employees that made this double.” He continued to glare, but she didn’t miss the pink flush appearing beneath the stubble on his face. She waited a minute to see if he would say _anything_ … and surprise, surprise, there was no response. “Okay fine.” Lydia huffed and turned back to the window, throwing it open. “Play time’s over boys!” She yelled, grinning when they all looked at her like she had three heads. She lowered her brows as much as she could, mimicking Derek’s angry face until Stiles burst into loud laughter that quickly turned into choking as he pointed to the space over Lydia’s left shoulder.

She didn’t even have to turn to know Derek was standing beside her, he was close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Dude must run hot or something. He was undoubtedly scowling and glowering and hopefully making the same exact face Lydia was (judging by the fact that Boyd of all people was hiding a smirk behind his hand made her think she’d hit the nail right on the head).

“Stop screwing around and get back to work.” Angry Eyebrows legitimately growled out the words, and she absolutely, did not in any way shape or form, get at all turned on by his tone. Not at all. Taking a deep, calming breath, Lydia turned around to face him. And he was gone.

She sat back down at her desk, feeling the sudden desire to draw. So she flipped open her sketch pad and pulled out a pencil, and proceeded to draw Angry Eyebrows, this time with tribal tattoos covering his arms and gauges in his ears and a slouchy beanie on his head. She stared at it once she’d finished, panic starting to well up in her chest.

“I’m fucked.”

 

The next morning there was another arrangement on the front desk when she got in. It was a simple bouquet in a mason jar, made up with purple carnations and asters, pink lilies, and some lavender daisies mixed in.

“Al, I think Isaac brought you more flowers.” She yelled towards the back of the shop. When all she got was a glare in response, she decided to put them in her office. Sniffing the flowers as she carried them, Lydia belatedly realized that they almost exactly matched the print on the skirt she had worn yesterday. _Huh._

It didn’t take long for the flowers to be pushed to the back of her mind, with phone calls and appointments steadily filling her day. She had just finished doing a simple infinity symbol on a girl’s wrist (yes, she knew that it was cliche, and some artists refused to do designs that were so over used, but Lydia figured it still meant _something_ to whomever wanted it), when Isaac wandered in.

“Hey, I’ll be right there!” She called to him, before finishing giving the girl the standard tattoo aftercare instructions. “If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to call.”

 

“Do you have time today to start on my arm?” Isaac asked when she returned to the front desk, his long frame leaning against the counter.

“I think so… Just let me check the schedule…” she pulled open the calendar on the computer, nodding in confirmation. “Yup, I’m free for the rest of the afternoon so I can work on you. Ally can do desk duty if I need her too.” Isaac followed her over to her station, where she began to prep his arm and then trace the design onto it.

She was about halfway done when the front door slammed open. Lydia didn’t flinch out of practice, making sure to take the tattoo gun away from Isaac’s skin before glancing up. She was not at all surprised to see Angry Eyebrows glowering at her and Isaac.

“Isaac!” He hissed, stalking towards them. “You’re on the clock!” Lydia’s eyes widened marginally. As much as she enjoyed needling Handsome Hale ( _hah! That was a good one!_ ), it definitely crossed some sort of line that Isaac was getting a tattoo while he was supposed to be working.

“Relax Der,” Isaac waved his free hand at him. “It’s not like there were any customers anyways.”

“How can you possibly know that if you’re over here?” Handsome Hale was standing over them both now, and Lydia decided to keep tattooing so that she didn’t gape at him. Because the man was ridiculously handsome. Up this close his eyes looked like some kind of pale green that she didn’t know existed, and it didn’t help matters that he was wearing a tank top so thin you could almost see through it.

“As if you let me make anything anyways,” Isaac scoffed, his signature smart-ass, pretty boy smirk in place. “Plus, if _you’re_ over here, then it’s been dead for at least an hour.”

“I’ll just finish up this section,” Lydia offered, not glancing up for fear of losing the line.

“No it’s-”

“Isaac, if I had known you were supposed to be working I wouldn’t have started.” She explained, taking a few seconds to complete the outline of the flower she was working on. “There.” Derek watched as she cleaned up and bandaged Isaac’s arm, giving him her standard speech on caring for his tattoo.

“I’ve heard this all before.” Isaac grumbling, face like a petulant child as he pouted.

“Yeah well, if I didn’t tell you, and it got infected, whose fault would that be?” She grouched right back, fighting the urge to smack him on the head.

“His, for being an idiot.” Derek answered her hypothetical question, the glare Isaac sent him earning the most beautiful smirk Lydia had ever seen. _Good Lord I need to calm down._

“True,” she smiled ruefully. “Alright Isaac, come back next week sometime… when you’re _not_ working, and I’ll finish up the outline. Then Stiles can work on the coloring.” Isaac just nodded in response, and Lydia watched as he was guided out of the shop by Derek’s not so friendly hand on the back of his neck.

“He’s dreamy huh?” Allison leaned against the front desk, her eyes trained on the duo.

“Yeah…” Lydia sighed in agreement, intrigued by what looked like a tattoo between Derek’s shoulder blades.

“Just look at his hair, it’s perfect.” Ally mused, sinking into a chair beside Lydia.

“Yeah…” Lydia agreed. His dark hair looked like it was soft, and it was the perfect length for pushing your fingers through and tugging just a little bit.

“I just wish he would notice me!” Ally whined, resting her chin in her hands as she stared across the street.

“Well you could start by like saying hi or something.” Lydia offered, pulling her sketchpad towards her.

“What are you talking about? I talk to Isaac all the time?” And that was Lydia’s cue to flush slightly. _Oh shit_. “Wait a minute, you weren’t talking about Isaac were you?” Allison had never looked so pleased in her entire life. And Lydia hated it.

“Of course I was talking about Isaac.” she grumbled, glaring at the paper in front of her. Pin up girls. That’s what she should practice drawing. She already had one of Ariel on her left forearm. Might as well draw some more for her lookbook.

“Oh!” Frowning, Lydia glanced over at Allison, who looked like she had just won the lottery. “Oh my God! I need to go call Stiles.”

“Ok…” Lydia returned to her sketch, not at all surprised when the drawing turned into a merman version of Derek. Complete with anchor tattoos and a little smirk on his face. _I am out of my mind._

 

Two days later, there was a beach themed arrangement waiting for Lydia on the front desk. Then three days after that, a bouquet of sunflowers. And then a ‘fairy garden’ made of moss and logs. They kept coming, every couple of days, just sitting innocently on the front desk when Lydia got to work. She still didn’t know who was making them. Maybe it was Laura and Cora apologizing for having their grumpy brother take over the Moon Flower. Or maybe it was Malia sending them for Stiles (they were currently in the ‘off’ stage of their on again, off again relationship). Her top theory was that Isaac was making them for Allison. But Ally didn’t want to claim them, so Lydia had a growing collection in her office.

 

It was a Saturday afternoon, and Lydia normally had the day off. While loading the dishwasher, an idea popped into her head for the friendship tattoo she was supposed to be designing. Unfortunately, her sketchpad was no where to be found, and even though she just as easily could have drawn it out on any piece of paper, she decided to take a drive down to Trust the InstINK. Stiles and Ally were probably there anyways, and there was a 50/50 chance that Scott would be there too.

Sure enough, Scott’s dirt bike was parked in the lot between Stiles’ piece of crap Jeep and Allison’s car. Lydia let herself in the back way, hoping to slip into her office unnoticed so she could scratch out her idea before showing it to them. Her footsteps were quieter than usual, muffled by her sneakers that took the place of her high heels. A girl had to relax and wear yoga pants every once and a while! Frowning and muttering to herself as she rummaged through her office, Lydia realized that her pad wasn’t in there. Which meant she’d left it on the front desk yesterday. It shouldn’t really have been a big deal, but Lydia’s heart was pounding in panic. If someone (and by someone, she meant Stiles) had decided to flip through her drawings… she’d be screwed. So screwed.

Hesitantly she crept towards the front desk, hoping to snag the book before anybody else could get their grimy little hands on it.

“Lydia.” The tone of Stiles’ voice already had her cringing, and the smug looks on his, Scott and Allison’s faces only made things worse. “Is there something you want to tell us?”

“Um… no.” Lydia’s eyes locked on her sketchbook, open on the table in front of them. _This was bad. So freaking bad_.

“You can tell us you know…” Allison urged, trying, but failing, to keep the smirk off her face. Lydia took a step closer, her brain working a million miles a minute, trying to come up with a reason why she had pages on pages of Derek ‘Angry Eyebrows’ Hale in her sketch book.

“It’s not like he’s ugly Lyds, I mean, he’s like sex on legs,” Stiles was grinning now, his currently bright green hair reflecting on his face.

“Your skin looks green.” Lydia snapped, deciding finally to flop onto the bench beside Scott and grab the sketch pad. Which was open to a particularly detailed drawing of Angry Eyebrows from the back with his flimsy tank top and tight jeans and broad shoulders. _Oh God_. She reached out to close it, only to have Stiles whisk it away at the last second. “You know it’s rude to go through other people’s stuff.”  

“I just wanted to see what your muse was,” Stiles explained. “You hadn’t drawn in forever. And now I know that tall, dark and grumpy really gets your blood pumping!”

“That’s not - you don’t - give me that back!” She ripped it from him, clutching it to her chest. “I’m going to-” The sound of the bells above the door jingling had all four of them freezing in place. Stiles’ smirk turned into a full on grin, and Lydia knew without even looking who had walked in the front door.

“Um…” Derek was staring at the four of them, the expressions on their faces ranging for embarassed to guilty to absolutely gleeful. “I uh, want to get a tattoo?” He half asked, one eyebrow rising slightly. No one responded for a beat, and Lydia belatedly realized that her asshole friends were going to make her answer. Of course.

“Sure,” she forced a smile, gesturing towards the shelf that held her’s, Danny’s, Stiles’ and a couple of other artists’ that would come in, portfolios. “You can flip through the portfolios over there, see what style you like the best.” Handsome Hale nodded, sending one last skeptical look at the four of them before wandering over to the books. “I hate you all.” Lydia hissed, glaring at each of her friends individually.

“I hope he picks yours.” Stiles winked at her, and Lydia wished that she could hurt him with her eyes. Her eyes flickered to the portfolios, wishing she had labeled them with their names instead of just by the style. “In fact, maybe I’ll go suggest-”

“Don’t you move.” Lydia clamped her hand down on his arm, pleased when he actually listened. “The reason I came down here was because I thought of an idea for our tattoo.” This of course earned their full attention, leers and smirks turning into genuine excitement. “So I was thinking, maybe we could do something with our fingerprints?” She flipped her sketchpad open to a clean, non Derek filled, page. “Like make an X out of them or something?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles pulled the pad away from her, taking a pen and hastily covering his thumb with black ink. “I like this!” He grinned, rolling the pen to Scott before pressing his thumb onto the paper like a stamp. Scott and then Allison followed suit, all four of them regarding their fingerprints critically once Lydia had stamped hers.

“It’s awful intricate… especially to have to do four times…” Scott mused, his right hand wrapping unconsciously around the bands on his left bicep.

“Danny could probably do it though.” Stiles countered, doodling absently. “They wouldn’t have to be exact. We can do just enough lines to make it look like fingerprints.” Lydia nodded in agreement. Danny’s meticulous style would be perfect for this. She was about to say just that when a shadow loomed over the table.

“I uh, I think I want whoever this is to do me?” Derek suggested almost awkwardly. It was weird for someone so attractive to be so socially inept. A few giggles slipped out of Stiles’ mouth before he slapped a hand over it. Lydia wasn't sure what was so funny until she realized Derek was holding her book.

“He wants you to do _him_!” Scott whispered in her ear, and she fought the urge to smack him.

“You sure?” Lydia asked Derek, staring up at him purposefully without making eye contact with her friends.

“Uh… yeah?” His brows furrowed slightly, and she found herself wanting to reach up and smooth them out. _I. AM. FUCKED._

“Okay,” Lydia forced another smile and pushed herself to her feet. “Let’s go to my office, you can tell me what you’re thinking about and I can sketch something up.” She tucked her sketchbook firmly under her arm, sending one last glare at her friends over her shoulder.

“Don’t you guys usually sit out at the booths with customers?” Derek asked as he followed her. Lydia nodded slightly, shrugging one shoulder.

“Yes. But I am a little distracted today. I wouldn’t be able to focus out there with those three.” She waited for Derek to walk past her before closing the door and curling into her chair. Angry Eyebrows was glancing around her office, eyes trailing over her growing collection of flower arrangements on display, expression growing decidedly less angry and much more warm. He was beautiful. _FML._

“So…” Lydia flipped her sketchpad open, carefully folding it so that all the used pages were flat against her desk. “What are you thinking?”

“Umm,” Derek fidgeted with the hem of the faded powder blue t-shirt he was wearing, before dipping his chin and looking up at her through his lashes. _Jesus Christ_. Today his eyes seemed almost blue, and she kind of wanted to crawl across her desk and like… lick him or something. “I want to have three wolves looking up at the moon and the stars.” His voice was quiet, and it struck Lydia that the tone of it wasn’t quite as low and gruff as it was when he was yelling and growling at people. He almost sounded friendly.

“Okay,” Lydia nodded, her pencil already moving across the paper. “Black and gray or color?”

“No color.” Derek shook his head slightly, eyes focused on her hands. Lydia just hummed in agreement, her attention totally drawn to her work.

“Where do you want it? How big?” She dropped the pencil purposefully, not wanting to get too far ahead of herself.

“You’ve got quite the collection of arrangements from my shop here…” Derek said slowly, clearly avoiding her question. Lydia smiled slightly, glancing around at the flowers.

“Yeah… I don’t know who keeps sending them, but they’re beautiful.” Cocking her head slightly, she studied him, fascinated by the slight flush appearing on his neck. “Do you know?”

“I do,” He nodded, that stupid smirk appeared on his face, making Lydia’s stomach flip.

“And?” she raised her brows, waiting.

“I think I want to get the tattoo right here,” his fingers settled on his left pectoral, right over his heart. Lydia just stared at him a minute, forcing herself not to sigh or let her eyes flutter closed (out of frustration for him avoiding another question, or at the thought of touching him, she wasn’t sure).

“Alright, lemme see.” She stood up and marched around her desk, planning to just half-ass and measure over the cloth of his shirt. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), Derek decided to whip his shirt off, revealing the best body Lydia had ever seen. And she’s seen quite a few.

She suddenly found herself wishing she was wearing something a little sexier than yoga pants and a t-shirt, before deciding she shouldn’t care what her _customers_ think about her anyways.

“Show me how big you want it.” Lydia ordered, sliding in between his knees and her desk. Her fingers itched to touch him, to trace the outline of his abs and curve of the muscles in his neck. Thanking the Gods that she didn’t blush easily, she sat on her left hand, twirling a pencil in the other. He traced a circle covering pretty much his enter left pec, reaching almost to his collar bone.

“Okay.” Lydia nodded, the hand she was sitting on twitching. Usually she wouldn’t be afraid to touch the customer, to measure with her fingers and make marks with a marker. But she didn’t usually want to straddle said customer and use her tongue instead of a writing instrument. And usually said customer wasn’t biting his bottom lip and looking at her with impossible colored eyes and fucking rippling abdominal muscles.

“Don’t you need to like… measure or something?” Was he teasing her? He was totally teasing her. Lydia rolled her eyes and grabbed a clean piece of paper before leaning over him. Staring determinedly down at his chest, she pressed the paper to his skin, drawing a hasty outline. Derek was still watching her when she stepped back and sat on the desk, one foot resting on the few inches of chair between his legs.

“Tell me about this tattoo,” she suggested, starting a new sketch.

“Okay…” Derek paused, twisting his discarded shirt in his hands. “Well, I don’t know if you know about how my parents passed away the summer after me and Laura graduated high school.”

“Yeah,” Lydia nodded. One night she, Laura, Cora and Stiles had drank too much wine and told each other all about their lives. “Are you and Laura twins?” Derek smiled slightly and shook his head.

“Irish twins.” He chuckled, and warmth began to trickle down Lydia’s spine at the sound. _So fucked._ “We basically raised Cora, Laura was already eighteen when it happened. But um, my Dad always referred to my mom as the moon, and us three as wolves, because of the way we followed her everywhere. And then my mom would tell my dad that if she was the moon then he must be the stars. And I dunno, I just…”

“That’s beautiful,” Lydia whispered, her eyes meeting Derek’s for just a moment. She glanced away quickly, afraid of what would transpire if she held his gaze for too long. Instead she focused on drawing the wolves. She drew two laying beside each other, heads on their paws with their ears perked. The third wolf was bigger, stronger, looking almost protective as he stood beside the other two. She drew a ledge beneath them, the moon hanging large in the sky. The rest she shaded in, leaving white spaces as stars.

Leaning forward but not leaving the desk, she held the drawing against his chest. She cocked her head and pursed her lips, studying it for a minute.

“What do you think?” She asked him, pulling the paper back before handing it to him. Derek’s fingers brushed hers when he took it from her, and Lydia forced herself to ignore the shiver that ran down her spine.

“I uh,” he chewed on his lower lip, and she wanted to sooth it with her tongue. _So totally fucked_. “You really captured our personalities…” Lydia couldn’t tell of it was a good or bad thing, and suddenly she felt self conscious.

“Is that… Do you want me to draw something different?”

“No!” Derek almost barked, cradling the drawing protectively. “Sorry, no. It’s really good. Awesome. Perfect actually.” He was grinning sheepishly, and Lydia found herself smiling back at him.

“Okay good.” She hopped off the desk, trying not to react to the fact the she was caged in for a second by his long legs. “I’ll finish it up later… we can set up an appointment for you to come in. It’ll take a couple of hours to do I think.”

Derek nodded and followed her out of her office, leaning his elbows on the front counter while she hopped up on the stool behind it. She had kind of forgotten that he was still shirtless until she heard Stiles’ not so subtle snort, followed by the sound of what she assumed was Allison slapping him.

“I’m here Tuesdays through Fridays,” Lydia was studiously ignoring her idiotic friends. “When would be good for you?”

“But today’s a Saturday,” Derek pointed out, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Yeah, I wasn’t supposed to be here, but I came up with an idea for our,” she gestured towards her friends, “tattoo thing and I forgot my sketchbook here, and…” She trailed off, almost freezing with the horror that she’d been rambling. Like Stiles. _Oh my God_. “Anyways, I can come in on a Saturday if you want me to.” This earned another round of snorting from the peanut gallery, and Lydia fought the urge to glare at them.

“No, I’m just messing with you.” Derek honest to goodness, full-on, smiled at her. _He’s like the freaking sun. I am so totally, royally screwed_. “How about next Wednesday?” Lydia checked the schedule on the computer, taking a long moment to compose herself.

“Alright, why don’t you come in at nine? We can get started.” She finally glanced up at him, catching a full blast of that stupid smirk that was almost as bad as the smile.

“Sounds good. See ya then.” And then he fucking winked at her, before turning and strolling out of the shop, stupid blue t-shirt tossed over his stupid shoulders, and giving her a good view of the thick black spirals rippling between his shoulder blades.

“You are so gone!” Stiles crowed from across the room, and Lydia didn't even have it in her to argue. Because it was true. She was so fucking gone on Angry Eyebrows.

* * *

 

There was a potted plant waiting for her on Monday morning. There was a mini trellis stuck in the center, with delicate vine already growing up it. The tag said it was a type of morning glory commonly referred as a moonflower, because it bloomed at night. A ribbon was tied around the pot, with another tag hanging from it with her name scrawled across it neatly. Trying not to think too far into it, Lydia simply carried it into her office and made a spot for it by the window. Maybe this afternoon she could bribe Scott and Stiles into planting it for her.

 

The next morning there was a bouquet of lilacs, and Lydia left them on the front counter because they smelled so good. (She took the tag with her name on it off though).

On Wednesday morning there was another bouquet (this one made of purple roses), but Lydia was so jittery she barely looked at it. Well, she checked the tag to see of it was signed, but it was just her name again. Lydia paced around the parlor, the sound of her heels clicking loudly on the tile floor doing nothing to calm her nerves. The arrival of Stiles, who was supposed to be off today, only made things worse.

“What are you doing here?” she grumbled, fighting the urge to bury her head in her arms.

“I thought I’d assist you,” Stiles grinned, hopping up on the counter. “And I want to ogle the man candy.” Lydia groaned again, this time giving in letting her head rest on the desk. “Speaking of eye candy, you’re looking fab today… get specially dressed for Mr. Hale?”

“No.” Lydia denied, because that’s what she’d turned into, a deny-er. She had no other excuse for spending an extra hour on her hair, getting it to curl just right. There was no reason to line her eyes with immaculate black liner and put on an extra coat of deep pink lipstick. And she absolutely didn’t have a reason to wear her black leather mini skirt AND red pumps AND a tight black crop top that left a strip of her waist exposed, showing of the ink that climbed up her sides.

“He’s totally DTF, you should just say something.” Stiles said encouragingly, the heels of his shoes knocking against the counter.

“There’s nothing to say anything about.” Lydia denies, the lie painfully obvious even to herself.

“Keep telling yourself that!” Stiles laughed, before letting out a low whistle. “Oooff, that man can wear the hell out of a henley.” Lydia head jerked up embarrassingly fast, tingles running down her spine as she watched Derek walk across the street. He could indeed wear the hell out of henley, the one in question was black, and it was like _molded_ around his muscles. “I think my mouth just went dry.” Stiles muttered, speaking Lydia’s thoughts out loud. Which was just embarrassing, really. And then the door was being pulled open, and the greek god of a man was leaning across the counter towards her.

“Ready for me?” He asks easily, eyes bright and beautiful and - Stiles is laughing. Lydia is going to kill him.

“Of course,” She answers primly, stepping out from behind the counter and heading towards her station. Derek follows her, stripping off his shirt almost eagerly before sinking into the chair. “Alright, so here’s the final design, if you want to take a look at it.” She handed him the paper, pulling on a pair of gloves with a snap. Derek looks at it seriously, his eyes filling with warmth.

‘It’s perfect,” he announces, causing Lydia’s lips to lift into a smile.

“Great.” She rolled her chair closer to him and began to prep his skin. “I’m going to have to shave the area.” She warned him, not daring to look into his face. Somehow this whole thing was becoming entirely too intimate. But Derek just sat quietly, not even flinching when she cleaned his skin with cold wipes. ‘Alright, I’m gonna go get the stencil for this, and then we’ll be ready to go.”

She stood and peeled off her gloves, thanking the heavens once again that Danny had convinced her to purchase a thermal fax last year. It was so much easier than tracing, and saved hours of time and labor. A few minutes later she had her stencil ready. She could feel Derek’s gaze on her as she walked back to him, his eyes traveling up her exposed legs. Ignoring how much she actually _liked_ having him look at her, Lydia returned to her chair, methodically applying the stencil to his chest.

Once she got started it was easier to not notice just how attractive Derek really was. He was quiet at first, but eventually he started to talk. He told her about growing up in Beacon Hills, how he played basketball and baseball (now that she thought about it, Lydia distinctly remembers having a serious crush on the captain of the baseball team when she was in seventh grade… some things never change), and how he had been planning on becoming a sports reporter after college. But then his parents died, and he discovered his love for plants, so he changed his major to landscape architecture. He and a couple of buddies started a successful lawn design company before Derek sold his share to join his sisters.

Emboldened by how much he shared, Lydia told him how she was a math prodigy in high school, and how she had a degree in applied mathematics from Berkeley. That of course had led to her explaining how the dad of her college roommate was a tattoo artist, and he agreed to teach her the art.

“I became obsessed,” Lydia laughed quietly, not even aware that her entire left arm was leaned comfortably across Derek’s torso as she worked. It didn’t bother her when he started to play with her fingers, or the ends of her hair. It all felt too natural to her, and if it hadn't been for the buzz of the tattoo gun, she might have crawled right onto the chair with him and fell asleep.

She was sure that if someone walked in right now, they would assume that Derek was her boyfriend, or even her husband. It was strange how comfortable she felt around him, even though his attractiveness was almost overwhelming. She briefly considered suggesting they do that tattoo in two sessions, just so that she had an excuse to see him again.

“How’s it going?” Stiles asked over her shoulder, the amusement in his voice clear. Allison was giggling over at her piercing station, and Danny was reclining by the windows, not so subtly checking Derek out.

“Good, until you decided to remind me that you were here on your day off.” Lydia hissed, finding the way Derek was glaring at Stiles slightly comical.

“Alright, alright.” Stiles grumbled, backing up slightly. “It does look pretty fucking awesome though Lyds.” If there was one thing that Stiles and Lydia always agreed on, it was their obsession with ink. She grinned up at him quickly, adding a wink in for good measure as he _finally_ decided to go do something other than lurk around the parlor. (That something was probably going to result in Stiles coming in hungover tomorrow, but that was practically routine by now).

Two hours later, Lydia finally sat back in her chair, wiping away the ink on Derek’s chest.

“I think we’re done.” she murmured, setting down the gun and beginning to clean him up more thoroughly. It did look pretty awesome, if she did say so herself. Although Derek’s chest just looked awesome in general, so there’s that. “Why don’t you go check it out.” She nodded towards the full length mirror in the corner.

Derek grinned and climbed gracefully out of the chair. Lydia definitely didn’t stare at him as he walked away from her, and she definitely didn’t notice that he had a fantastic ass. She didn’t want to trace the spirals of the tattoo on his back with her tongue either. Nope. None of those things were even slightly appealing. Danny was fanning his face, a look of pure lust in his eyes, but Lydia ignored him. She had better things to focus on. Like Derek. Walking back towards her. With his stupid v-lines and abs and eyes and _oh God this is so bad._

“You’re going to need to leave this bandage on for at least four hours,” she explained when he sat back down, putting on a clean pair of gloves and then applying ointment to the reddened, ink stained skin. “To get the bandage off, dampen the edges with warm water so it doesn’t rip your skin.” She placed gauze over the tattoo, sealing the edges in a square with medical tape. “Once you take the bandage off, wash the tattoo with lukewarm water and soap. It’s probably easiest to do this one in the shower, but don’t let the water spray on it, and don’t use a sponge or anything, just your hands.” Unbidden the image of Derek in the shower popped into her head, and Lydia gulped. “Pat it dry with a paper towel, don’t rub at it or anything, and let it air dry for up to an hour before re-applying ointment. You’re gonna have to do this for at least three days, until the skin starts to peel. Then you can switch to lotion.” She smiled at him until she realized her hands were still on his chest. Obviously she couldn’t get enough. “So um, that should be it.” She peeled off the gloves and stood up, stretching her arms over her head and cracking her back. Derek’s eyes were dark and hooded when she looked back down at him, causing something warm and molten to curl in her stomach. “If you have any questions, or if you think something’s wrong with it, just come see me.” Lydia smiled again. _Why am I smiling so damn much? Good Lord_. “We’ll just finish up at the front desk and then you’re good to go.”

 

Lydia was already sulking and Derek hadn’t been gone for barely ten minutes. It occurred to her belatedly that she was a grown ass woman, and if she wants a man she should just cowboy up and ask him out to dinner. But Derek Hale had some how retrograded her back to high school - no. Lydia Martin had never been this way with boys. Ever. She always went after what she wanted. She wondered if this time she was just afraid of rejection.

Her attention was drawn by Erica Reyes, walking past her front window,

“Erica!” she yelled out the door that had been left open to let in the breeze. The blonde rolled her eyes but strode on in, looking particularly fierce today in painted on black jeans, high heeled boots and bustier top.

“Hey bitch,” she half sneered, leaning on the counter in a fashion that made her boobs almost fall out of her shirt. “What’s up?”

“Who’s been bringing me all the flowers?” Lydia knew better than to beat around the bush with Erica. It would only backfire in the end. The almost predatory grin that spread across Erica’s face did not help calm any of the nerves in her stomach. _Oh no. What is this?_

“You’re just as oblivious as him aren’t you?” Erica sneered, looking all too pleased with her revelation.

“Um… what?”

“Stiles has clued me in on your new muse.” She continued, not at all fazed by the murder in Lydia’s eyes. “Of course that was only after I told him about Derek coming in early to make special flower arrangements for you ever since you complimented that one he was making in the shop.” Lydia just stared. _Oh. OH_. “And then Stiles sent me a picture of you tattooing him. Do you usually let your clients play with your hair? Or only the really hot ones?” Lydia flipped her off, pretty sure that there was absolutely nothing she could say to refute that one. “If I were you I’d go over there and push him up against a wall or… _something_.” With one last flick of her blonde curls, Erica swept out of the parlor, almost causing an accident as guys gawked at her while crossing the street.

Lydia really should have taken Erica’s advice. Instead she’d been sneaking in the back door and hanging out in her office, surrounded by her (still growing) collection of flowers. From Derek. She’d never had a problem telling a guy she’s interested before, and it’s confusing as to why this one is different.

“Maybe it’s because you want more?” Allison suggested as she leaned against the door frame of Lydia’s office.

‘What do you mean, more?” Lydia grumbled, angrily sketching a picture of Derek with tattoos covering his arms and a bouquet of daisies in his hands. Allison sighed and rolls her eyes.

“Don’t be dense. You _like_ him. Like really like him. And you are scared because you want a relationship based on more than just sex.”

“I… But…” Lydia didn’t know what to say. “Maybe?” She decided on half admitting it, her stomach turning into knots. Maybe this was the problem. She didn’t just want to do the dirty with Derek. She wanted to watch movies with him under a blanket and go for hikes in the woods and draw tattoos all over his body. She wanted to tell him how amazing his arrangements were, and she wanted to be able to grab his butt whenever she wanted. She just wanted him. “I’m so fucked.” She moaned, giving up on her drawing and pulling her knees up to her chest.

“Maybe you should just go talk to him?” Allison offered, shrugging one shoulder. “How long has it been since you last talked to him?”

“A week.”

“Lydia. Stop moping and do something about it. You’re acting like Scott.” And then Allison was gone, her footsteps fading away as she disappeared back towards the front of the shop.

Not ten minutes had gone by before there was a gentle knocking on her door.

“What do you want now Al?” Lydia growled, not bothering to lift her head.

“Um… Not Al?” The sound of Derek’s voice had her jumping in her seat, and undoubtedly flushing. “Hi.” He grinned at her, and she briefly considered hiding under her desk. “I um, I think my tattoo seems a little swollen?” For some reason Derek was blushing profusely under his stubble, but Lydia ignored it.

“Oh no,” she pushed herself to her feet, stepping hesitantly towards him. “Do you want me to look at it?” Derek nodded once, pulling his sinfully tight t-shirt over his head in a smooth motion. Even though she’d seen it before, Lydia’s mouth still went dry at the sight of his bare chest, her attraction only amplified by the tattoo. Her tattoo. Without thinking she pushed the door closed, stepping closer to him.

“It doesn’t look too swollen.” She admitted, touching his skin gently with her fingers. Glancing up into his face was probably a bad idea, because Derek kind of looked like he wanted to devour her.

“That’s cause it’s not,” he almost growled, stepping into her space until Lydia’s back hit the wall.

“Then what are you doing here Hale?” She meant to sound sassy, but her voice came out a little more breathy than she intended. He grinned widely at her before planting his hands firmly on either side of her head.

“I came…” her eyes fluttered shut as his nose ghosted up the column of her neck. “To see the pictures you’ve drawn of me.”

“What makes you think I’ll show you them?” Lydia realized too late that one, she’d just admitted to drawing him, and two, it was kind of hard to be a sass master when she had one hand somehow curled around the back of his neck.

“I’m prepared to bribe you,” Derek murmured against her ear, his hot breath sending jolts of desire through her body.

And then he kissed her, and Lydia almost forgot how to breath. His lips were urgent and warm against her, sucking and biting at her lips until she parted them with a moan. Derek licked into her mouth, his hands leaving the wall and tangling in her hair, pulling her tightly against him. Lydia groaned and wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling herself up closer to his mouth. His big hands were suddenly gripping the backs of her thighs, hoisting Lydia up with a little yelp. She recovered quickly, hooking her legs around his waist. Derek’s lips trailed down her jaw, teeth grazing her earlobe before he began to suck at her neck. And god dammit Lydia whimpered, fingers gripping his hair and her hips thrusting against him.

“Will you date me?” Derek huffed, pulling back for a moment. His pupils were so blown they were almost black, and his lips were red and swollen and wet, and Lydia wanted to- _Hold on, I can totally kiss him_. She sucked his bottom lip gently, smiling when Derek shuddered beneath her.

“I wanna date the fucking hell out of you.” She admitted, giggle turning into a moan when he kissed her and pressed her hard back up against the wall.

“How about dinner?” He growled between kisses. “Tonight?” Lydia just nodded, trying to remember the last time just making out with someone had made her feel this light headed. “Ok, let’s go.”

Derek started walking towards the door, still holding Lydia to his chest.

“What are you doing?” It was embarrassing how husky her voice sounded, but Lydia couldn’t really care.

“I live above the flower shop. I’m going to make you dinner.” Derek answered simply, not making any moves to put her down as he strode out into the parlor. Allison, Isaac, Boyd, Erica, Stiles and Scott began to clap and cheer from where they were lounging, seeming way to proud of themselves. But Lydia didn’t care, not when she had Derek’s tongue flicking over her pulse on her throat.

* * *

 

Derek had cooked her dinner. And washed the dishes. And pushed her up against the fridge and kissed her senseless a couple of times. Then he’d put on a movie and pulled her into his lap and kissed her slow and lazy and burning and Lydia was about to burst out of her skin. Because even though she wanted to date the fucking hell out of him, she also wanted to like… fuck him. Apparently Derek was too much of a gentleman to initiate anything, so Lydia took charge.

She slid to the floor, kneeling between his legs and reaching for the button of his jeans.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice barely a rumble.

“What does it look like?” Lydia raised an eyebrow as she pulled down his fly. Derek visibly gulped, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as she slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of his briefs.

“I don’t know…” He trailed off, even lifting his hips slightly so that she could more easily pull down his pants. Lydia half moaned when his cock sprung free, wrapping her hand around it and stroking a few times. “Fuck.” Derek swore softly, leaning his head back against the coach with his eyes closed. She licked him from the base up to the head, flicking her tongue across his slit until he moaned and fisted a hand in her hair. That was all the encouragement Lydia needed to take him into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and sucking slightly. Derek groaned again, and when Lydia glanced up at him through her lashes, he was watching her with hooded eyes and parted lips. Within seconds he was pulling her back up on top of him, kissing her roughly as he dragged her blouse over her head. The callouses on his hands scraped across her skin as he pushed her skirt up over her hips.

“How are you even real?” Derek asked breathlessly. He was staring at her openly, eyes moving for the pistol and garter tattooed on her right thigh to the purple and pink flowers crawling up her sides. And then he was kissing her again, his mouth open and hot while his thumb slowly rubbed her through her underwear. Lydia moaned into his mouth and pushed back against his hand, chasing his touch. She just wanted his hands and mouth and tongue _everywhere_.

“Derekkkk,” she whined, tugging on his bottom lip with her teeth. “Pleaseee.”

“What do you want baby?” His voice was low in her ear, making Lydia’s thighs clench together.

“I want… just…” She was cut off by the sound of tearing cloth, only to have her panties replaced by his hand. Derek’s thumb rubbed slow circles against her clit while he slowly pushed one finger inside of her. Lydia made a slightly embarrassing sound, tightening her grip on his shoulders and ducking her head to suck greedily on his neck.

All too soon he moved his hand away, causing Lydia to make a pathetic sound in protest.

“Come on baby,” Derek murmured, tightening an arm around her waist. “We aren’t doing this on the couch.” Some kind of sorcery took place, and then Lydia was naked in a giant bad, her fingers fisting in sheets that smelled like Derek (which was amazing, by the way).

“Derek,” she whispered his name, moaning when he just hummed and spread her thighs farther, tongue lapping at her clit. “Please! I want…” She trailed off when he pushed a third finger inside her, Lydia’s own hips betraying her as she bucked up into him. “I want… ohhhh.” His fingers hit just the right spot inside of her and Lydia felt her legs began to twitch.

“You gonna come for me Lydia?” Derek whispered. She forced her eyes open, looking hazily down her body until she met his heated gaze. Derek didn’t look away as his tongue flicked out again, and that was all it took to push her over the edge.

Derek crawled up her body, kissing her slowly while she rode out her orgasm. She could taste herself on his lips, and nothing had ever turned her on more. He was still hard, his length heavy against her stomach.

“Please tell me you’re gonna fuck me now,” she growled once the ability to speak had returned. Derek smiled lazily at her, pressing kissing down her jaw while something warm blossomed inside her. _I really like this guy._

“As you wish.” He nipped at her chin before reaching for the bedside table, fumbling around for a few seconds before pulling out a condom. Lydia watched him sit back and roll the condom on, her eyes barely open. “You sure you’re up for this? I can wait…” His stupid eyebrows furrowed with concern, one hand reaching out to caress Lydia’s cheek. She chose the moment to lunge at him, tackling him rather ungracefully so that he was flat on his back. Planting one hand firmly on his chest, she carefully lowered herself onto him, groaning at the stretch. Once he was buried inside her, she finally looked at him again.

“I still don’t think you’re real…” He whispered, clamping his hands onto her hips as he started to thrust into her. Lydia moaned and through her head back, content to let him to all the work of lifting her as he thrusted.

“You look like you’ve been photoshopped, so don’t even start.” She was surprised she was able to string a full sentence together. Derek smirked up at her, and that warm feeling from before just wouldn’t go away. And then he was sitting up, caging her between his knees and his chest and kissing her like she was quenching his thirst. And God, he was still thrusting inside of her, hitting just the right spot, and Lydia could feel it. She was going to come for the second time in like ten minutes. “Derek, I…” She moaned into his mouth, tangling her fingers in his hair and tugging gently. He let out a noise that sent a spike of heat to Lydia’s core, his thrusts starting to come harder and faster.

“Lydia.” He whispered her name, and she knew he was close, his strokes becoming erratic.”Fuck Lydia.” He sounded completely wrecked, his forehead pressed against hers, their lips not quite touching, just breathing the same air.

“God you’re hot,” Lydia admitted, one hand sliding down the nape of his neck to his muscular shoulders. Derek chuckled, and it was then that Lydia discovered that she could totally get off on the sound of someone’s laughter (well, Derek’s laughter). And apparently, Lydia giggling and their bodies bouncing against each other was also really good, since both of them threw their heads back and moaned.

“Fuck I’m gonna…” Derek bite down on Lydia’s shoulder, and normally she would’ve been pissed but dammit it felt too good and then she was coming. Hard. Derek had stilled inside of her, the only sound in the room their labored breathing.

Derek fell back into the pillows, tracing designs on her back with the pads of his fingers. He kissed her neck, her ear, her jaw. It was terrifyingly intimate. But Lydia was surprised that she liked it. A lot.

“I still want to see your drawings,” Derek’s voice was low in her ear, and Lydia found herself blushing (which was embarrassing within itself).

“Only if you’ll keep sending me flowers,” she hedged, pushing herself up slightly so that she could see his face.

“I think that can be arranged,” Derek was smiling again, that warm feeling continuing to radiate through Lydia. “You’re beautiful.” He murmured, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. Lydia just smiled slightly, smoothing a finger over his eyebrows. “You know, that day that Isaac and Boyd were playing football with Stiles and McCall? I wasn’t really mad at them… I uh… I was looking for any excuse to see you again.”

“Oh really?” Lydia smirked, pushing her fingers into his hair. “How about the tattoo? Did you really want that?”

“Well yeah!” Derek huffed, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes, instead trying to kiss her again.

“But?”

“But I kind of didn’t want it until I realized there was a sexy tattoo artist across the street…”

“You’re so cute,” Lydia giggled, capturing his lips with hers before he could reply.

“I am not cute.” He muttered when she finally came up for air. Lydia wasn’t about to tell him that the little pouty face he was doing right now was _beyond_ adorable, so she just kissed him again. And again. And again.

She wanted to keep kissing him. Forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come and hang out with me on [tumblr](http://werewolvesandarrows.tumblr.com/) if you want! No promises, it's a mess haha.
> 
> XOXO - B
> 
> EDIT: Saw this post on [tumblr](http://werewolvesandarrows.tumblr.com/post/110742286452/teen-wolf-au-i-got-my-first-tattoo-when-i-was) and I kinda freaked out cause it's Lydia with tattoos


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